The Only Difference
by PrinceRaoden
Summary: The only difference between good and evil is your perception.  Lily raised Harry to tell the difference without relying solely on either the light or dark.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J.K. Rowling or Warner Brothers._

_The Difference Between_

_Chapter 1_

_Priscilla Polderi hadn't had to fight for over a decade, so naturally she wasn't prepared for three young wizards wearing black masks and black cloaks to tromp into her house and start robbing her._

_"Get out of here," she yelled as loud as her old voice would go and brandished her wand at the shortest of the bunch. He didn't even flinch, and before she could even think of a spell an '__expelliarmus'__ hit her in the back. Her wand went flying and she toppled over. There was a loud 'crack' and she felt her left wrist break. Luckily her right was her wand arm._

_"Get that vase Birch," said the man from behind her who had cast the spell at her, "and if you break it, Salazar be dammed I'll __Avada__ your ass!"_

She spotted her wand lying carelessly a few yards away. They hadn't even bothered to pick it up! Sure, she was almost over the hill at one hundred and forty nine, but that didn't mean that she couldn't still be dangerous!

"_Veni_," she whispered with a flick of her wrist, and hoped that the enchantment she'd placed on her wand from her younger days still held. It strengthened the connection between her magic and her wand's, and when she whispered the magic word the wand acted like a magnet and came towards her, almost as if she had wandlessly summoned it (although at this old age, it was a miracle she could even perform simple spells.)

The three were preoccupied with gathering anything they seemed valuable in her house, opening drawers and pouring their contents all over the floor, summoning items and dropping them if they weren't worth enough, so they didn't see her now armed. _At least they haven't found my collection of books yet,_ Priscilla thought. _They'd have a heart attack if they knew the value some of them were-_

"Hey, look boss!" one of them said, and Priscilla stiffened, thinking they had seen her, but relaxed only a tiny bit when she saw he held up her first edition of _The Subtle Art of Casting,_ which was one of her many very rare, very expensive books. She cursed, remembering that she had taken it out to refresh the preservation charms the other day and must not have put it back in it's hiding place. "I think this'll go for a few gallons!"

_More like a few hundred,_ she thought then raised her wand at the wizard holding the book and quickly said "_Confrigo_!"

Unfortunately for Priscilla, after years of using magic only for simple household charms, her blasting curse was underpowered and the man stumbled and dropped the book but stayed upright with his wand still in his other hand.

Priscilla cringed as the book thudded on the floor, and decided that the book probably would have been even more damaged had the blasting spell worked correctly.

The man raised his wand.

"Wait," said the tall man once again, and the one pointing the wand at her froze, then slowly dropped his wand arm. "_Incarcerous_," the leader hissed.

She dropped her wand as the magical ropes bound her. Priscilla watched it roll away with trepidation and not a little bit of anger, both at her intruders and herself for not doing more to stop them.

Twenty minutes later two aurors finally came, arriving because the alarm spells on her house had gone off when the men first entered a half hour ago. They found her bound on the ground. A quick "_finite" and "Episkey"_ for her wrist, then she told the two people of the law what happened.

"We will do our best to apprehend the criminals, maam" the younger wizard of the two said with vigor, "and to get your priceless collection back."

"It ain't priceless, I can tell you exactly how many thousands of gallons they stole! And it would have been more, but I keep my most valuable hidden under many wards and the like-"

"We will do our best," the older wizard said, "but I can't make promises. This sounds like the work of a gang we've dealt with before, but could never catch them in the act."

"But if they're selling my things," she said in disbelief, "couldn't you arrest them?"

"No, maam," the younger replied at the older one's look. "Article V section III clearly states that 'no persons in possession of stolen merchandise may be apprehended for the crime committed until proven guilty.' And section IV of the same article states 'guilty, as pertaining to theft, is defined as being caught in the act of breaking the law.'"

"But I _saw_ them, they were here! That must count for something."

"Could you recognize them? They wore masks," the elder said, before walking towards the door. "Well, this is all we can do for you. I hope you get your house cleaned up and that they don't come back."

As she shut the door, she muttered "lousy aurors, as bad as them Po-lice them muggles have, probably worse." She hobbled over to the couch and rested down on the one cushion that was still on it. With unease she remembered how the leader of the trio, right before he left had said with a creepy smile, "In a week's time we'll be back, and you'd better have something better in here for us than this junk, else we'll leave your body somewhere that nobody will ever find it. I know you have a rare collection in this house."

Priscilla motioned in the corner where her owl Penelope sat on her perch, and the owl flew over. She was thankful that Penelope had been hunting, and hadn't been here for the intruders to torture or kill.

She scratched Penelope absentmindedly with her still sore newly repaired wrist while she summoned a piece of parchment and a self-inking, self-writing quill from the cluttered floor. The parchment hovered in front of her, the Quill poised.

"Dear Nephew," she spoke, and the quill began to write. "I'm sorry for writing to you once again, but I have a favor to ask of you. I was recently robbed, and need someone to take care of the intruders."

She continued speaking, the quill dutifully writing down everything she said, describing exactly what had happened both with the robbers and the aurors. She finished with "I hope it won't be too much trouble to help out your old Grandmother. I'm not as quick as I was in my younger years, and simply want to live the rest of my life in peace. Love, Grandma Polderi"

The letter sealed itself, then tied itself to her owl, and she was grateful she wouldn't have to knot the small string together. With a hoot farewell Penelope flew off to Knockturn ally.

A few hours later, she got a reply, and took it off the owl as quickly as her arthritic fingers allowed her to. "Don't worry, Gran," it said, "you'll be safe this time. She'll arrive the day before the allotted week is up."

Priscilla smiled, grateful. Even though she didn't know who the 'she' was, she trusted her grandson and his connections to protect her. _Next time,_ she thought, _those robbers won't get away unscathed._

_ '/

' `- /' +

+ **/** +

Priscilla heard three knocks at the door, then a pause and a follow up two knocks. Hurriedly, she went to the door and opened it to find a woman with a young man, just as her nephew had told her there would be in a follow up letter. They both looked quite ordinary with brown hair and brown eyes. The boy looked like he'd just finished school. "Come inside," she invited with a slightly shaky smile. After all, she was dealing with a hit witch and whomever the other was.

They came inside and, when invited the woman sat down on the couch while the young man stayed standing. Neither said anything, although they looked at each other enough and must have been communicating silently to each other. "I'll, ah, make us a spot of tea then?"

"That would be advisable," said the lady, and she quickly went to make the tea.

As Priscilla went out of the room, the boy waved his wand and the door shut, then waved it again and the door melted into the wall so it didn't look like anything had ever been there. A third wave and silencing wards sprung up around first the door then the whole house.

The woman tapped herself on the head and the cracked egg feeling of disillusionment went over her, but instead of turning invisible her features and clothing began to change until she looked exactly like the old woman had.

The young man didn't need to be told to hide in a darkened corner out of sight, and just as he made himself comfortable there was a knock on the door.

As it was ignored, it became more insistent until the intruders finally simply used the handle, and it opened for them.

There was a rush as five people wearing black masks all entered the house and shut the door. "Where's the goods," the tallest of the bunch said gruffly.

The boy held the two wands in his hand at the leader, and shot a clear spell directly at his chest. The man suddenly stiffened and fell over, his eyes glazed.

There was a choir of "Boss!" as the other three of the other four rushed to help him.

Only one stayed standing and looked at the corner where the young man was. "There! In the co-"

His words were cut short as the boy fired a not disguised stunner, and even though the man raised a shield in time the stunner shot right threw and blasted him against the wall where he stopped moving.

The other three looked at once from their fallen comrade and started shouting curses.

Only one of the three curses came even close to him, and he simply raised a shield. He moved his second wand to his left hand and threw three quick, consecutive stunners back at them.

Meanwhile, the disguised old lady had simply sad down on the couch, watching the fight.

Only one spell hit true. One of the men dodged out of the way, and the other erected a shield that held, just barely.

The one that had dodged started "_Avada Keda-" _before a stunner hit that one in the face, and he slammed into the floor.

The last one was smirking behind his shield. The boy lifted his wand to finish him, but then realized that he was sinking. The floor was quicksand!

Debating whether to cancel the quicksand spell or stun the man, he chose to end the spell first and raised a shield with his left hand while his right made the counter for the dark curse. He felt a spell hit his shield as he started to panic, confused and worried as to why he was still sinking.

"Think!" he heard a voice yell, so he took a deep breath and calmed down after shooting a quick stunner at the man, who blocked it with an end side table. If the counter didn't work, what did that mean? Either the man was more powerful than him, which he didn't think was true since his left handed shield still held, or…

It was an illusion! Quickly, the boy waved his wand at his feet, and the quick sand turned to real floor. He looked up and froze as he saw the unblockable killing curse heading towards him.

A chair intercepted the curse and he watched as the woman, now without the old lady illusion, calmly stood and pointed her wand at the man. "_Duro._"

As the man turned to stone, the boy started babbling. "I'm sorry, I should have seen-"

"Stop," she said. "We'll talk outside." She waved her wand and the door reappeared, then waved once more to trigger the wards on the house so the auror's would come. A third wave banished the dead body and then they apparated.

As Priscilla Polderi exited her kitchen, she saw three men knocked out on the ground and a forth made of stone with a look of horror, but her two visitors were gone.

The aurors came and she told them that the fallen wizards broke into her house and she hid in the kitchen, so she wasn't sure how they could have been disarmed.

"Probably a bounty hunter," said one of them as he looked around. "The leader isn't here. Must have taken him. Are you sure you don't remember anything about them?"

Priscilla wasn't going to tell them anything, but then realized that she couldn't when she thought about them and didn't even remember their gender. Or was it only one?

"No, sorry."

The aurors nodded, then collected the stunned (and stone) bodies and apparated away.

Even though she couldn't remember who saved her, she'd have to thank her nephew for his help, and with a smile she thought perhaps with one of her famous apple pies would be a good gift.

_ '/

' `- /' +

+ **/** +

"I shouldn't have taken my eyes off them! I was so stupid-"

"Stop."

He shut his mouth.

The woman got on her knees in front of her son so they were at eye level. "Sweetie, it's okay to make mistakes right now. I'm here for you to and can fix them. You did splendid out there." She smiled. "I couldn't be more proud of you."

The boy pouted. "But mum, I could have done so many things differently! I could have apparated out of the way, then they might have tried and splinched themselves on our wards. And I should have noticed it was an illusion right away, and even if I didn't you always say 'take out the enemy, then worry about the curse.' And my stunners should have gone through the shield; they weren't very powerful, I just wasn't concentrating enough."

His mother smiled and their bright green eyes met. "Well Harry, now you know what to fix for next time, and even though you weren't perfect I'm still very happy with your progress. You know, most boys your age couldn't fire a stunner, let alone take down five adult wizards more than twice their age."

"Four, mum" Harry muttered. "And I'm not most boys now, am I?"

Lily sighed. "No, no you're not." She looked over at the dead body in the corner. It was placed under preservation charms, but she'd prefer it to be out of their hotel room as soon as possible. "Now, I'm going to go take care of the leader. While I'm gone, I want you to rest and have fun. Why don't you watch some TV?"

Harry's eyes lit up. "I hope Doctor Who is on!"

Lily smiled. "I'll be back soon."

Harry nodded and after his mother left he went to the TV. He flipped through the channels and frowned when all that was on was soap operas, info commercials and little kids shows. Honestly, even though he was twelve it didn't mean he wanted to watch cartoons. He finally found a cop show and settled for that. Muggles could be so entertaining sometimes.

The August midday sun pounded in through the window, creating a glare on the set. Absentmindedly, Harry waved his wand to shut the curtains.

An hour later his mother came back with a bag of Gallons and a smile. "We've got another job tomorrow, sweetie."

Harry perked up and shut off the set. "Really, where?"

Lily sat down on one of the room's queen sized beds. "A quick transport job in Surrey. Shouldn't even break a sweat." She laid down on the bed to take a nap.

"Night, mum," Harry whispered as Lily fell asleep. Harry wordlessly summoned a book on useful household charms and began reading. He took a moment to remember how his mother told him that any spell, no matter how light or dark, could be used in battle. You can die from suffocating on soap bubbles just the same as a heart-stopping curse, only the first takes less power to cast. He then remembered how almost every spell he'd used today was the stunner, and berated himself. Variety was key; without it you're predictable and predictability loses.

_ '/

' `-/' +

+ **/** +

Harry and his mum were in the back of the heavily warded truck, watching over an item in a box. He couldn't tell what it was, but could feel the dark magic surrounding it. It was often like this – not knowing what you were guarding. Harry just hoped it wasn't _too _dangerous, and that there was no chance of it activating and hurting him or his mum.

The truck finally came to a stop, and they looked out one of the windows in the truck, which from the outside looked like a solid wall. They had arrived at the warehouse, and nobody even tried to break into the truck. But it wasn't done yet. They still had to make sure that the buyer handed over all the gold.

Lily took down the wards and opened the back doors of the truck as the man purchasing the item stepped out from the shadows. He gave a shaky smile at the seller, who had been sitting in the front and watching for trouble and now was coming around the side of the large truck.

"Well, Pumice, I see you've made it here," the seller said, who was a smaller man with beady eyes. "Do you have the gold?"

"F-five hundred thousand gallons, just as you asked." He reached into his pocket and Harry tensed, but relaxed when the man took out a bag of gallons and threw it to the seller, his hands shaking.

Lily looked at her son and said mentally '_I don't like this. He's too nervous. Be cautious.'_

The seller waved his wand and checked the bag. There were exactly five hundred thousand gallons inside, though the bag was charmed to be weightless and larger on the inside than out. Then the man took out a gallon and examined it thoroughly. His eyes narrowed after about ten seconds and hissed "It's a fake!" He took out another and examined it too, then threw the bag on the ground. "Get him!"

Harry sent a stunner at the retreating buyer, Pumice's back, but a shield erected between them. Pumice didn't have his wand out.

The two were about to apparate away when they felt wards go up around them, and two dozen men revealed themselves. They had been disillusioned!

Lily swore as one of the men raised his wand and said "Put down your wands; we have you surrounded."

Harry tried his emergency portkey, but both those wards were up, so he raised his wand in a defensive position.

"Stop," his mother commanded. "Put away your wand. We can't win. I'm sorry, and I love you." She waved her wand and Harry felt the illusion on him fade away, so he was simply a twelve-year-old boy again.

"She attacking!" one of the aurors yelled, and a volley of stunners shot at her. She didn't have time to put up a shield as she finished taking off his illusion, and Harry had sheathed his wand, so he could only yell "Mother!" as the dozen or so red spells impacted her, and she was blasted ten feet back and when her body hit the floor she was knocked out cold.

He began running over to her fallen body, but an auror had come up behind him and grabbed the back of his cloak. Harry spun around and hissed "Don't touch me!" when he felt a wand prod his gut, and a face with sad eyes said "_Stupefy._"

_ '/

' `- /' +

+ **/** +

Harry awoke in a white room. There was a lady in a nurses outfit was waving her wand over his body, and he realized she was casting diagnostic spells. She smiled. "You seem to be in top shape, young man."

Harry looked down at himself and noticed he was wearing just a hospital gown. He was lying on a white bed, and next to the bed was a white chair, and a door at the end of his bed. Besides that the room had nothing else. "Where are my wands?" he asked immediately.

"I'm not sure," she said, "but the aurors said they'd talk to you when you woke up, so I'll bring them in. They'll probably know." She smiled and began to walk out of the room.

"Wait," he said, and she paused. "What about my mother?"

She turned around with a frown. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure about her either," then she left the room.

Harry considered escaping, but realized that he had no wand and no idea where he was, plus he wasn't going to leave his mother here, so he simply waited for the aurors and recited in his head what his mother had told him all those years ago. The rules he was to follow if he got captured.

A tall black man walked into the room after the nurse left. He had a gold hoop in his left ear, and Harry immediately spotted the small bulge of his wand under his right sleeve. _Auror_, he thought.

"Where's my mother?" Harry asked.

The auror sat in the chair next to Harry's bed with a sigh. "You'll get to see her soon, but first I have to ask you a few questions."

Harry nodded, having expected it.

"I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, and you're welcome to call me whichever. What is your name?"

_Don't tell them your real name._

"Indivar," Harry said with a smirk. It meant 'blue lotus' which was why he picked it. After all…

Kingsley smiled and Harry was thrown off balance. "I suppose it would be an appropriate name for the son of the Black Lotus. Do you mind if I call you Indi, then? Indivar is such a mouthful."

"Yes," Harry said. He was starting to get nervous; nobody was suppose to know that was his mother's code name. "I want to see my mother now."

Kingsley's smile faltered a bit. "I'm sorry, but I just have a few more questions. I'll go through them as quickly as possible, though."

Harry nodded.

"Alright Indivar, where are you living?"

It was a harmless question to answer; they moved every few days and never brought anything with them, buying everything new each time they moved. "In a hotel in London. The Athenaeum."

"What spells did your mother teach you?"

_Don't tell them about the full extent of your magical abilities._

When Harry was silent, Kingsley continued. "You must have known some; after all you had two wands."

"My mother taught me some household charms. Wingardium Leviosa."

"Ah, good, good. And what is that scar on your forehead?"

Harry instinctively touched the lightning bolt on his forehead. "Car accident," he murmured.

Kingsley nodded. "One last question. Where is your father?"

Harry looked Kingsley in the eyes. "He died."

The man looked abashed. "I'm sorry. I'm also sorry about your mother."

Harrys eyes went wide. "Why? What's wrong with her!"

"She… I'll take you to her and then tell you."

Harry jumped off the bed and followed Kingsley out the door. They walked into the intensive care and Kingsley walked up to a guarded door. "I am Auror Shacklebolt with Indivar, son of patient 8773. We request to see her."

"I'm sorry Auror, but no unauthorized personal are allowed in the room with the Black Lotus."

Kingsley looked sternly at the guard. "I am a high ranking Auror, and this is her son. Certainly we rank as authorized personal."

The guard shook his head. "No, sir. I have strict orders from the minister.

Kingsley took a deep, calming breath. "Then send out a healer. Young Indivar would like to know what happened to his _mother_."

"Certainly, Auror."

A minute later a healer came out of the room. He bent down to Harry's height.

"What happened to my mum?" Harry's eyes were wide and fearful, tears threatening to drop.

"Your mother was hit with a lot of stunners at once, son. It was like a magical overload to her system. She's… she is in a magical coma right now, and we've healed her body, but her mind just can't wake up right now. She should wake up once her mind gets over the shock."

Harry looked hopefully up at the healer. "So she'll be okay?"

The healer gave a weary look. "I can't say for sure. It's possible she might wake up without her magic, or with lost memories, or she might be just fine. But since she is the Black Lotus, she'll be put into Azkaban-"

"That's enough," Kingsley said.

Harry wasn't bothered by the Azkaban part though, his mother had told him what would happen if they were ever caught. But that she could wake up as a muggle? Tears began falling from his eyes.

Kingsley gave the boy a look of pity before saying quietly "Let's go back to your room."

_ '/

' `- /' +

+ **/** +

It was the next day that Harry was visited by an elderly man. He had a long beard and was wearing bright purple robes with shooting stars. "Hello, Harry," the man said. "I am Albus Dumbledore."

_Don't trust Albus Dumbledore, but if you are unfortunate enough to meet him, do not believe his grandfatherly persona. Also do not let him know that you don't trust him._

Harry smiled thinly. "Good afternoon, headmaster."

His face lit up. "Ah, so you do know of me! Yes, I imagine you mother would have told you about me, Harry."

Harry froze.

"Yes, I know that your mother is Lily Potter. She was one of my favorite pupils at Hogwarts after all; I could never forget her bright green eyes. And you look exactly like your father."

Harry frowned. His mother hadn't prepared him for this. "What do you want, headmaster?"

Albus just smiled. "I'm here to offer you a spot at Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"No."

The old man's smile faded. "It's not a request. You are in a very precarious position, Mr. Potter. Your mother is incapable of taking care of yourself, and you have no other wizarding relatives, not to mention the bounty that will be on your head when people find out that you were the Black Lotus's son. No, it's best for you to be at Hogwarts and finish your education."

"But sir, my mother-"

"Even if she wakes up, Harry, she'll be immediately put into Azkaban until her trial. You'll be put into state custody and sent to a juvenile delinquency school, because of your mother. You should go to Hogwarts."

Harry thought about it for a minute. His mother had never said anything about where he would go if they were captured, only what not to tell them. And this wizard already broke one of his rules. "Okay sir," he finally said. "I'll get to learn what everyone else is learning, right?"

The Headmaster nodded. "Of course. We'll go get you a wand tonight, then bring you to Hogwarts. There the teachers will test you tomorrow to make sure you belong in second year, although I'd bet you'll be fine there with a bit of catching up; your mother was a smart witch after all and has probably taught you all the first year material. Then that night is the welcoming feast. It really is lucky that you'll be coming right before term starts."

"Yes," Harry deadpanned, "it is lucky that my mother was almost murdered by aurors."

Dumbledore lost his smile. "I'm sorry, my boy. I know nothing I can do will help your mother, but when she does get better, you'll be safe at her alma mater and she'll be happy."

Harry nodded, but didn't really think his mother would be happy that he was being watched over by Albus Dumbledore. "Alright. But you said I'd get a new wand. What about the wands I had on me when I was brought in here?"

"Those are banned because they don't register the underage use of magic and, even if we put the restriction on, the wood is inbuilt with an anti-priori incantatum. I'm sorry, but you'll have to get a new one from Ollivanders. He is the finest wand maker in all of wizarding Britain, so no need to fear! Shall we go get your new wand?"

Harry took a portkey Dumbledore offered and they were taken to Diagon Ally. They entered Ollivanders and Harry jumped when the old man behind the counter suddenly appeared and said "Another Potter! I thought you were supposed to come last year, boy."

"I got my wands abroad, sir." 

"Wands? Pfft. Each wand chooses the wizard, and that one will work best for you. There's no need for more than one, especially at your age. Now take a step closer so I can measure you."

An hour later and Harry had found the wand meant for him; Holly and Phoenix feather. He went to pay for it but realized he had no money.

"Here, Harry," the Headmaster said and took out ten gallons. "For your wand and a little extra." He winked.

"But sir, what about all of my money?"

The old man sighed. "Everything has been confiscated by the ministry. You will be going to Hogwarts on scholarship."

"What?" The wand in his hand sent out red sparks. "But we – my mum earned that money!"

Dumbledore either didn't notice the slip of the tongue or choose to ignore it. "As a wanted criminal, all possessions have been put towards repaying the hurt families."

"But she didn't steal!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "The ministry has rules that I can't break. But with a scholarship, as long as you keep your scores at Exceeds Expectations you will have enough gold to get all the supplies you need, with some left over. This year I will be buying your supplies new, and you will get twenty gallons to purchase whatever you want with throughout the school year, in addition to the three I just gave you, whether it be study guides, more potions ingredients, or," he winked "Joke supplies."

"That will be seven gallons," Ollivander said.

Harry looked at the ten gallons in his hand. "Do you have a wand holster for my arm, sir?"

"Hmm, a good buy. When you're a bit older you'll probably want anti-theft runes etched in, but for now I believe a basic one should do the trick!" He reached below the counter and pulled one out. "A standard holster for children. That will be twelve Sickles."

"I would prefer Auror grade, sir, one that grows as I get older, as that's what I've always worn. A basic one of those should be fine, though."

"Auror grade, and will fit to your forearm or shin, whichever is more comfortable, alright. That'll be two gallons."

Harry handed over nine gallons and pocketed the last one, then put on his holster and put his wand inside.

"I have to tell you though boy, students aren't allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. "But I'm going to Hogwarts now, so is it okay for me to have it Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Let's be off!"

As they began walking towards the portkey area, Harry asked "why can't I just buy my school things now?"

"Because we don't know what classes you'll be in," Dumbledore replied. "Each year requires different materials."

"What if I want extra books?" Harry asked, "Like you said I could get study guides?"

"Hogwarts has an extensive library, Harry, and anything you can't find in there you can always owl order with your extra gallons." Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stuffed bear. "Now hold on tight. _Lily_."

With the code word spoken they were whisked away to the gate in front of Hogwarts.

_ '/

' `- /' +

+ **/** +

Harry stared out his window at the view of the lake. He was in a guest room in Hogwarts, and any moment the first teacher would come in to test him. His mother had taught him a bit of everything, so he thought he had the basics down, but everything he learned was to use in battle. Sure, she did teach him a few household charms and he used quite a few _scourgify _when he didn't have time to bathe or brush his teeth when they were on the run, but he wasn't sure what real school children learned, and therefore was nervous he didn't know enough of normal things.

There was a knock on his door and Harry started to wave his wand to open it, but remembered about not letting anyone know the true extent of his magical abilities, so he quickly got up and opened it. On the other side was a very short, very old professor. "Hello, Mr. Potter," he said with a smile, "I'm Professor Flitwick, teacher of charms, and if you're anything like your mother was you'll have no problem starting with the second level."

Harry nodded and flicked his wrist, unsheathing his wand. "So what spell should I perform first, professor?"

"I suppose we can do practical first, then theory. How about the levitation spell? If you're unsure of the incantation, I can always remind you-"

"_Wingardium Leviosa."_

Harry just remembered to speak it instead of saying it wordlessly, and a piece of parchment on his beds' end table floated in front of the professor.

"Good, good, but can you make anything larger float?"

Harry nodded and brought the paper above the end table. With a flick he released the spell on the paper so it floated down and transferred it to the end table itself. It rose and Harry looked at the professor.

His eyes were wide. "Your mother taught you to transfer spells?"

Harry froze for a moment, then his face took on a confused look. "What is that, sir?"

Flitwick cleared his throat. "Nevermind. Let's run over the rest of the list shall we, then get onto the theoretical aspect."

Harry performed every spell Flitwick asked, which was only about a dozen more, and was surprised with himself that he knew them all. Then Flitwick asked him questions about why charms were performed with certain hand movements, what could happen if a spell isn't pronounced correctly, the history of spells, etc. Before Harry knew it Flitwick had smiled and said he was thoroughly prepared for the second level although he should review his spell history and the spells' creators, and left his bedroom.

It was very similar for each other professor he met except for the defense professor Gilderoy Lockhart who said that "with his defeat of You-Know-Who, Harry could be in any defense class of his that he wished!" but ended up assigning him with the second years.

The only two classes he had problems with were Potions and Herbology. Potions because the teacher, Severus Snape, had at first said that he had to repeat first year, but when he said that he'd been brewing with his mother since he was young he decided that he could get into second year without a test. Herbology he had problems with because he knew nothing about plants. Occasionally he would help his mother pick potions ingredients, but most of the time they bought them. And with all the running around and hiding they did, there was never any time for gardening. Professor Sprout eventually said that he would probably pick it up as he went along, and if he needed help then she would set up a tutor for him outside of class.

After all the teachers had visited him, it was nearly time for the feast. Headmaster Dumbledore said that he would be sorted right after the first years, and that no unnecessary fuss would be made, but Harry still feared the whispering he knew would happen. The only good thing was that nobody knew he was the son of the Black Lotus, or else there would be assassination attempts to go with it, and even though Harry loved a good fight he was not in the mood to defend himself. Not with his mother still in St. Mungos, and possibly on her way to Azkaban.

_ '/

' `- /' +

+ **/** +

Albus steepled his hands as he waited for the last of his teachers to sit at the circular table. There didn't need to be a head of the table for everybody to know who was in charge. After Minerva McGonagall sat at his right, he began. "I officially call to order the first meeting of the professors of Hogwarts School on September 1st. Is there anything that the professors would like to talk about?"

Filius Flitwick spoke up. "I'd like to bring to order the new student Harry Potter."

A few of the teachers murmured, and Dumbledore said "I second that. How about all the professors tell how their tests for him faired."

Flitwick nodded. "I found him to be very intelligent. His mother certainly taught him a lot when he was younger, and I wouldn't doubt if he'd been performing magic for a few years already."

"And what evidence do you have, Filius?" McGonagall said, "He seemed a bit above average to me, but nothing extraordinary. His transfigurations were all done quickly and cleanly, and while I have no doubt he will be fine in level two transfiguration, I could not imagine him transfiguring for the past many years!"

"Harry transferred spells, Minerva."

Albus looked worried for a moment. "Explain, Filius."

"I told him to perform the levitation spell. He did it perfectly on a piece of parchment, but I wanted to see if he could do it on something larger, so I asked him to perform it on the end table. He transferred his spell from the parchment onto the end table, which is an OWL, if not NEWT level achievement!"

Dumbledore's eyes pierced the smaller wizards. "Are you sure it wasn't just a coincidence, Filius?"

Filius shook his head, then shrugged. "I asked him to do the same thing with a different charm, but this time he stopped the spell and recast it instead of transferring. I couldn't get him to do it again, and when I asked him about it he said he didn't know what it was. But the first time he did it, he performed the transfer naturally!"

Dumbledore smiled. "I believe that it may have just been a late act of accidental-like magic. It is nothing for concern. How about the rest of you?"

"Absolute perfection! Couldn't wish for a better student," Lockhart said.

"Needs work, but I believe he will struggle through," Pomona Sprout said.

"Acceptable," said Snape which, for him, was a large compliment.

"He showed adequate knowledge of the star constellations," Sinistra said.

Professor Binns stayed silent, but everybody assumed that Harry would be fine since that class was based almost entirely on reading and learning the material.

"This is all good," Dumbledore said. "I believe that Harry will be a good addition to this school. And we will just have to wait until the sorting feast to determine where he belongs."

"I have one last question," Professor Lockhart said with his Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile, "Is it true that he is the son of the Black Lotus?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips before replying "No, it is not."

Next to him he saw Minerva purse her lips as well, but she didn't correct Dumbledore. And had anybody been watching Snape, they would have seen his face darken.


End file.
